My Plea
by evilteddybear
Summary: Robin can never show weakness without risking death at a Hunter's hands. But she's not crazy or a witch. She's a moody teenager. What happens when she lets her pain out? Looking for beta or author who wants to finish this story. discontinued
1. Monday Morning Blues

_**My Plea/by evilteddybear/a WHR fanfic/Ch1. Monday Morning Blues:**_

"Robin,…Robin! Wake up!" called Touko as she shook Robin awake. "Robin, you fell asleep on the couch again. You had better get going if you want to make it to work on time."

When her eyes finally opened Robin wasn't quite sure where she was or why she was there, let alone why she was being shaken and yelled at. As she gradually regained full consciousness; however, her eyes snapped open wide and she stood up quickly. If you've ever stood up quickly after napping you know that that wasn't a smart move. Robin realized this when all of the blood drained from her head and the edge of her sight went black. Touko had to catch her as she fell, nearly fainting, to the floor.

"Robin, be careful," the older woman admonished as she stood Robin carefully back on her feet. "you wouldn't want to hurt yourself." It was meant to be a nice comment, but being in the line of work Robin was, it sounded like a threat. What a wonderful way to start a morning.

The Craft User's thoughts were abruptly cut off as she saw the clock on the wall. She would be late to work for sure now! Muttering a quick thanks to Touko Robin then nearly sprinted out of the door. She didn't need to dress, as she had fallen asleep in her clothes, and her hair was forgotten in her haste. It was more important that she avoided a scolding from Amon. It wasn't likely she could take much more of him constantly smashing her spirit. Not to mention that her absence at work would bring unwanted attention from their superiors. Any odd or suspicious behavior was to be avoided at all costs. Extra attention from SOLOMON or Zaizen was very high on the list of things she absolutely DIDN'T want right now.

The meek girl was so lost in her thoughts that she wasn't paying attention to where her feet were going. Another very costly mistake. As Robin reached the stairs she accidentally stepped on the hem of her dress causing her to trip…and fall down half a flight of stairs before she could stop herself. It was a stroke of luck that she came down on her knee, then her shoulder and started rolling down the steps sideways. It was very painful and she would no doubt have some nasty bruises, but she hadn't hit her head. That might have resulted in a concussion or worse.

Her brain worked quickly as she eased herself down the rest of the flight to a flat platform. Why hadn't she taken the elevator again? Oh, yes, there was no good reason she was just in a hurry and hadn't been using her head. Her thoughts continued along this line as she gently probed herself for serious injuries and checked to see if she was bleeding. What was she to do now? She couldn't go to a hospital for bruises and that might bring attention to her as well. Touko might know what to do to help but she would already be on her way to work by now. She would just have to continue on her way to work. Maybe Mrs. Karasuma could help.

Slowly Robin gathered her scattered strength and lifted herself to her feet. Her ankles weren't sprained and she hadn't broken anything. The worst that had come of the little incident was what would no doubt be some ugly bruises and limbs that would ache in the morning. Paying attention to her surroundings this time the girl began her descent down the stairs more carefully, making sure to lift the front of her skirt. Insuring that she wouldn't step on the hem. What a wonderful way to start a morning.

Robin almost cursed when she saw that it was raining outside. Quickly she checked to see what else had gone wrong. Yep, she had left her coat and gloves upstairs. Well isn't that just peachy? Have you ever ridden a motorcycle in the rain? That's what it's like to ride a vespa in the rain, but there was no way she was going to trek back up those accursed stairs to get her coat. It just wasn't going to happen. With the knowledge that she was going to be late still hanging over her head Robin brushed her defeatist thoughts aside and mounted her Vespa. After strapping on her helmet and re-adjusting the rear view mirrors she was off.

The trip to work was nerve-wracking. Inner city traffic was horrible at that time in the morning and the roads were quickly becoming slick. Honking could be heard all around co-mingled with not a few voices shouting obscenities at the other vehicles. The rain didn't have any calming effect as it was wont to do. It didn't even smell cleansing, it smelt like fish. Can you say gross? As she reached less populated roads her speed increased. The rain pelted her like bullets as she hit it at 60kmph. Water or not, when you hit something that fast and hard it HURTS. Especially if you've already fallen down the stairs once that morning, resulting in Texas-sized bruises covering the length of your body. At least she wasn't out in the country where her helmet could be pelted with bugs. Scary thought. Sadly, Robin's pity party was again interrupted when she saw that she was coming upon the bridge. She wasn't naturally a paranoid person, but she didn't mix well with heights. Racing over a quickly swelling river on a slick bridge in an open Vespa was also high on the list of things she would rather avoid at all costs. Oh, well there was no help for it now. She would have to navigate the rain and fog to the best of her ability and hope her name wouldn't grace the next days obituaries.

After what seemed like a lifetime of struggle Robin finally made it to the parking area of Raven's Flat. Drenched through and shivering uncontrollably, she took off her helmet and got off her Vespa. Everyone else was already there, judging by the vehicles. Even Doujima. She was so screwed she thought as she rung out her dress and hair as best she could. Setting her jaw determinedly she strode strongly past the guard without gracing him with a polite greeting and entered the elevator. As the doors to the elevator closed she tried to calm herself, all the while gathering every bit of strength she had in prepration of facing her comrades, boss, and partner. What a wonderful way to start a day,…and she had a feeling that it would get worse.

Micheal had been worried about Robin, it wasn't like her to be late. Where as Doujima had been preparing to hold over everyone's heads the fact that she wasn't the last one to work ALL the time. At least not today. We won't try to fathom what has been going on in Amon's head. Sakkaki was having fun speculating that Robin had stayed out to late the night before, sampling the night life, or maybe enjoying a hot date. Miho was as calm and understanding as always and quietly insisted that Robin was human too and had probably slept in, there was nothing to worry about since Robin would have called them if she needed help, and that they should just be patient before proceeding to ignore the others and get back to work.

Everyone's head snapped around to stare when the elevator bell dinged. Well, except Amon's. He just sort of peeked out of the corner of his eye. After so much speculation and imagination had been put into their ideas of Robin's whereabouts they were all interested to see the truth for themselves. What they saw when the elevator doors opened was not what they had expected to say the least. Robin looked like a drowned rat. Or maybe a wet cat. Her expression was harried and her teeth were chattering. Her black dress was soaked and the underskirt was sliding so that it peeked out from under the rest of her dress. The tighter part of her top clung to what curves she had while one of the black straps of the outer layer had fallen off of her shoulder. She was slouching and struggling with the added weight of the water in her skirt, and there was even a long rip in one sleeve. Her hair was loose and clung to her face and neck, though it wasn't nearly as soaked as the rest of her thanks to her helmet, not including a few strands sticking out at haphazard angles, also compliments of her helmet. In short, she looked miserable.

Once they had been staring for a few seconds Robin steeled herself and began to walk through the office. As she moved her skirts stubbornly trailed behind her with the weight of the water and she dripped all over the floor leaving a trail of water as a slug with it's trail of slime. Not a very flattering comparison. She resembled a wet, slug-like rat. That was sure to win her first prize in a beauty pageant, she thought. She intended to go straight to the bathroom and clean herself up to the best of her ability, considering the limited resources. Obviously, things weren't going to go the way she wanted them to now any more than they had this morning, however.

As she passed, instead of ignoring her or mumbling a sullen greeting, Amon stood up to his full height, towering over her, and seized her by the arm, effectively halting her progress. "You're late," he commented, seemingly uninterested.

The young Craft user lowered her head in response, biting back the retort that rose automatically to her lips. She may be inexperienced, but even she knew that it was unwise to anger anyone you would work with or who has any kind of influence over you. It was just that, the way he said it was as if he were scolding an errant child. That made her angry despite herself. Had she had any less control she would have snapped back any number of things; And you're stupid, Did you figure that out all by yourself, Thank you for that astronomical revelation I can now die in peace, What about it, And your point is? She wouldn't say anything foul or demeaning, his manner just aggravated her. Her patience and control were being tested that morning as it was, and she didn't need his help to feel miserable.

"What kept you?" were the next words out of her partner's mouth. Instead of aggravating her further; however, the correct response was so embarrassing that she had to repress the urge to blush. Her eyes then darted around the room to see if anyone had caught the slight reddening of her cheeks. She wasn't sure what exactly what would happen if anyone had, but she was sure it wouldn't have been good for her. No one had seen.

Dourly accepting her lack of response Amon curtly commented that she was not to let it happen again before releasing her. She turned back toward the bathroom, but Doujima got to her first. Always one to seize onto an opportunity to avoid paperwork and lighten the atmosphere, she confronted Robin with a large, sunny smile.

"Amon is so rude! Sitting there lecturing while you freeze to death! You look like you've fallen in the river Robin. Don't worry, though, I'll help! It's a good thing I always keep a change of clothes in my car just in case. You just go into the bathroom and dry yourself off while I run to my car to get them. You'll be fixed up in no time! What in the world happened to you? Did you know that Sakkaki said you were probably stuck at home with a hangover? That silly boy, will he ever grow up? I'll be right back, don't you worry," and before she knew it she had been pushed into the bathroom and was again alone. She hadn't had the chance to answer any of Doujima's questions if she had wanted to. It was doubtful the blonde had even taken a breath during her tirade. Was that humanly possible? Robin mused as she took off her dress and hung it on the door of her bathroom stall. Then began to dry herself off with the paper towels she had grabbed on her way in.

It wasn't long before Doujima returned and continued her ramble as if she hadn't ever stopped. After figuring out which stall Robin was in she threw some clothes over the door. They predictably landed on Robin's head, cutting her sight off for a minute, but she supposed she was grateful that they hadn't landed in the toilet considering the way her day had been going so far. She was also grateful that her underwear was still relatively dry. Who knows what she would have done otherwise?

Examining the borrowed clothes,…well Robin didn't know what to think. So she just put them on. They were so odd, maybe they were American? Luck for her, by the time she exited Doujima had exited the room so she was free to examine her new wardrobe in the mirror before she was pushed back into the main room. She was wearing khaki jeans, that were so light they were almost cream. They hung low on her hips clinging tightly until close to her knees where they flared out in a bell like fashion. There was also a brown leather belt with a thin silver belt buckle attached. The shirt she was wearing was a rose color, or maybe mauve. It's neckline was an inch away from her shoulders, and dipped fairly low. It was just high enough to cover any cleavage. The sleeves clung tightly to her shoulders, but loosened considerably, flaring. They were three-quarter length, and had brown leather laces that loosened as the sleeves did. The shirt itself was made of a very thin, but opaque material, akin to spandex. Maybe a polyester blend. That was tight enough to stretch tightly over her breast while remaining loose around her stomach. She would have to be careful that her underwear didn't show when she sat down. And check to see if her bra straps were showing often because of the wide neck line. Not to mention that a sliver of skin on whichever hip was forward would show when she walked. All in all, the outfit was very, flattering, attractive, and well-matched, but she felt bare in it when compared to her normal clothing. Doujima hadn't given her any shoes, but hers were soaked. She'd have to put them near an air vent or heater to dry, and remain barefoot in the meantime.

By the time she had exited the bathroom the rest of the STN-J team had gone back to work, but her entrance again grabbed everyone's attention. Micheal was giving her the once over. Sakkaki was smirking. Amon looked disinterested, which didn't surprise Robin in the least, but his eyes were a bit wider and rounder than usual.

Miho smiled at her before turning to frown at the rest of the room's occupant's disapprovingly. She never liked it when they skimped on their work. And Doujima started commentary immediately. "Why Robin, you look wonderful! I had been planning on taking you shopping soon anyway. That black dress gets tiring after a while. You're such an attractive girl. I don't understand why you insist on hiding that fact. The clothes are a bit loose, but they match you perfectly."

The comment in that tirade that stuck out to her was that Doujima thought the clothes were loose. Loose! How were they supposed to fit? Any tighter and she would have to be liquefied and poured into them! Really! But even though Robin was reluctant to admit it, she enjoyed the attention she was receiving. It brought a small smile to her lips and a bit of un-craft-related sparkle to her eyes. For once, she felt like a normal teenager, vying for approval among her peers. It was a rare feeling, and one she cherished. Well, until she noticed that Micheal was scoping her out, that just made her want to blush. And the more she thought about it, the more embarrassed she was. So much skin was showing and the clothes were so tight! So blush she did. A lot.

" Do you have a brush I could use, Doujima? Miho?" she asked demurely in an attempt to re-direct everyone's attention. Her hair really did need some attention, not only was it wet, clingy, and messy, it had begun to frizz up and puff out. It was so annoying when her hair did that! Doujima gave an affirmative answer, never pausing her string of sentences so that her voice almost blended into one continuous sound. While she bent over and dug in her purse, Robin again retreated to the bathroom and fetched her dress, under dress, and boots placing them near a heater she had noticed in a corner of the main room to dry.

Once the elusive comb was found, Doujima rounded on her and began to close in with the intention of playing with her hair; however, Amon was fed up with the entire game and reprimanded harshly "Doujima, this isn't a sleep-over. Have you forgotten why we are here?" Amon may have been a man of few words, but the ones he felt the need to articulate were very effective and often very biting. Doujima shrugged it off with a jest, but obeyed him nonetheless. It was a testament to Amon's power that he could make Doujima work.

Amon's reprimand ;however, also had the inadvertent effect of putting Robin in her place. He was right. She was a hunter, not a normal teenager. No matter how much she wished it were the other way around. This wasn't social time. She was so intent on making up for her lapse and doing her job, that she opted to wait to ask Miho to treat her bruises. It didn't matter if it hurt to sit down, or if changing her clothes had been painful. Her pain wasn't important. It never had been.

And when she sat down, she schooled her face to neutrality, and forced herself to lean her back against the chair. She mustn't show weakness. That was one of the first lessons she had ever learned. No matter how much she trusted her comrades.

**AN:** _Hey everybody! Hope you like. Reviews would make me jump up and down for joy. Love you for actually reading these notes. My explanation of this fic is that it's a reflection of my own emotions, except I channel them through Robin in a way. So basically Robin's feelings express my frustrations. What do you think? Luv U!_

**_(standard disclaimers apply) All my love- evilteddybear_**


	2. Robin's Musings

**_My Plea/ evilteddybear/ a WHR fic/Ch.2…_**

Doujima had spent the rest of the morning waiting impatiently for it to be lunch time, as if she were a grade school child eager for recess. After what seemed like forever and a day to her, the hour hand on her silver-banded watch finally hit twelve.

"Hey guys, lunch time, who wants to go to Harry's!" there was an answering chorus of "Me!" along with a nod from Amon. Everyone would be going except Micheal, of course. Robin often felt deep sympathy regarding his plight. In some ways her own predicament was similar. While the details were different, neither of them was free either to do what they wanted or to be themselves. One slip up from either of them would result in a swift death. Neither of them would ever have the chance to be normal.

Normality, whenever she confided her deep wish to have it she was chided that no one in this world was "normal". After all what is normal anyway? Oh, but she disagreed. Normal people went to school and lived with their families. Normal people had problems, yes, and their lives were often complicated and tragic. Yet there's even a difference between normal and abnormal people's problems. Normal teenagers didn't have to be quiet about the secrets of a covert organization in order to avoid being killed. Normal people had friends. How she longed for a true friends. Micheal might be the closest she'd ever gotten to having one, but she still couldn't be herself around him. She couldn't show weakness lest they suspect she's turning into a witch. Normal people could cry and be comforted. Normal teenagers could be prissy and hormonal and scared. She couldn't ever show any of those traits. Weakness was not to be tolerated.

It's funny how Amon despised her weakness and thought he had to reprimand her and remind her to get stronger. Didn't he know that she despised her own weakness more than he ever could?

Robin was brought back to reality by Master's voice asking what she wanted to eat. She had been thinking so deeply that she hadn't even been aware of her movements; of getting up from her desk, grabbing her coat, straightening her dress, following the others into the elevator and then out to Harry's across the street. With a faint blush of embarrassment at her own inattentiveness she quietly ordered Espresso and a Romano Sub. A fairly easy Italian sandwich dish that she had requested Master provide for her. Surprisingly he didn't seem to mind airing the recipe and ingredients for the dish that she alone ordered. He was a great man, and she had a large, soft spot in her heart reserved for him.

Looking around the table at her companions Robin sighed heavily as the desire to share her true thoughts and feelings with them settled on her insistently again.

By the time she had finished her sandwich and was about to indulge in drinking her espresso, Amon's communicator began to ring. Doujima and Sakaki stopped their bickering long enough to hear what he had to say. After a swift conversation in which the only thing he said was "Aaa", he informed them all that they had a lead on a witch. It was a crime scene that the police couldn't understand as per usual, and he and Robin would be going to investigate.

After they had started their journey to the site in Amon's car he turned his eye to her and curtly said, "Do not allow whatever is negatively affecting you today to interfere with your performance in this mission in any way."

Robin looked at him startled, but did not reply. She wasn't expected to. What could he mean? How had she been acting differently? Well, she was dressed differently that was for sure, and she had been lost in her thoughts quite a few times today. Come to think of it, she had been unusually inattentive to Amon as well. How funny; he had noticed.

Usually her eyes were inexorably drawn to him whenever he was in the room, not to mention she followed him like a puppy dog. She had been ignoring him today. Which was quite a feat. She felt an almost gravitational pull towards this man. Maybe she was attracted to him, who knows? Nothing was certain when it came to Amon. He was a mystery to her. She didn't even understand her emotions towards him. She was afraid, he could hunt her, and probably would, given the order to. She was hopeful, maybe in him she could find a friend, or some of that rare, sought for, approval and understanding. She was frustrated by her inability to understand him. She was just confused.

Everyone in her life had a title, almost like a ranking. Everyone was categorized so that she would know her priorities and to whom she owed more loyalty.

The STNJ operatives were her comrades. The brothers and sisters of the strange family that she had never known. Juliano was her father, a stern and loving figure to be obeyed and respected. Master was her Uncle or Grandfather, her confidant who would always have answers and could always help her or cheer her up. But Amon, Amon was her PARTNER. Her other half meant to balance her strengths and weaknesses as she balanced his. A part of her that was separate from her, which she required to function.

One thing was for sure, in her heart and her mind she owed Amon the most loyalty, and he was the closest to her, no matter how little he liked her or how little she knew about him.

Robin picked her head up from where she had rested it against the window when the car stopped, exiting the car at exactly the same time Amon did, as she had been trained. Up ahead was an alleyway that had been sectioned off with yellow tape, and was being flanked by a single, sole-remaining police car. The actual police officer who was supposed to be patrolling the scene was no where to be found, so Amon just stepped over the yellow tape, and then waited for Robin to follow. It took her a little bit longer because she had to duck down and almost crawl under the tape instead, not being tall enough to step over. When she got up from her on all-fours position on the ground she was blushing. Yeah, having to crawl around while Amon stares at you is DEFINITELY embarrassing.

As the duo ventured deeper into the very deep, very ominous, very dark, and very cliché in all aspects alleyway, Amon began to began to relate to her the circumstances surrounding the victim's death. To her surprise there was more than one victim, to say the least. Well, come to think of it. The fact that Amon told her anything at all concerning the matter was a surprise in and of itself. The general rule was that she was always the last person to know anything, and the only reason she would be informed is if it was absolutely necessary in the situation. You could say she was on a need-to-know basis.

"Everyone on this side of the third story of the adjoining office building seems to have jumped through their windows in an attempt to get away from something. All of the corpses show physical signs of terror. See what you can find." With that Amon was off to begin his own examination, leaving her to search the bodies for anything out of place. Let's just say what she found under the standard police issue tarps used to cover gore wasn't pretty. Okay, that's an understatement, the bodies under the tarps were disgusting and caused bile to rise in Robin's throat. What's a girl to do? She couldn't pass off her duty, nor could she vomit, less she prove her weakness in Amon's eyes. She tried reminding herself that she should be used to this by now, having seen worse in the past. That was NOT a smart move, as the memories of worse scenarios she had seen were brought to mind, causing her nausea to increase. Okay, time to try something else then. Robin soon had a new mantra that went along the lines of; Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts, don't throw up, think happy thoughts…

Having finished her examination of the bodies, the young witch hunter began a survey of the surrounding area. Spattered blood-check. Garbage cans-check. Concrete and brick buildings-check. Suspicious spells or rings-no check. Well, that about summed up her part of the investigation. Now where was Amon?

The young adults mental question was quickly answered as Amon came around the front corner of the building. Apparently, while she had been fighting back her nausea, he had been checking out the inside of the building. If Robin were one to cuss she would have uttered some pretty colorful expletives at the man who had left her with the dirty, bloody work while he looked around a corporate executive's office. Too bad, she wasn't a potty mouth.

After Robin had reported her findings, which combined to a grand total of nothing, her partner stared stoically at her for a number of seconds before making an about face and heading to the car. She was expected to follow, of course. As if today hadn't been bad enough for her WITHOUT the addition of a scary witch, gore, embarrassment, crawling under yellow tape, and Amon's bitchiness. She could feel a headache coming on.

**AN**: _Hi everyone. I really need to apologize for the short length and the lateness of this chapter. I'm really confused, because I'm stuck between a few ideas. I can either follow along my original plot line, which ends in one or two chapters with a lot of emotion, but little plot, or I can make this into a long fic. I haven't gotten into the swing of being an author yet, so forgive me for any of my mistakes and general faults. I really would appreciate any reviews, or even an e-mail. One reason I don't make a good author is that I'm a people person and I find writing to be a lonely activity. _

_Thank you for the reviews you sent me! hugs I would reply to them individually, but I'm sure you'd rather I just skip the chat and get back to writing, yes? _

_**(standard disclaimers apply) All my love- evilteddybear**_


	3. Bruises and Rooftops

_**My Plea/evilteddybear/a WHR fanfic/ Ch.3…**_

On the way back to the office all of the pain and soreness from her bruises came crashing back onto Robin like a ton of bricks, causing her to lean her head against the window of the car and let out a long sigh. She didn't have to worry about Amon asking questions, he probably didn't even notice her lack of energy.

Amon, Amon, Amon, why was she constantly thinking of Amon? Was she attracted to him? Yes. Yes she was attracted to him, but her rational mind knew that nothing could ever happen between them. Contrary to what some people might think, Robin was not a masochist. She did not enjoy pain, or trouble. Thinking of Amon in that way was only going to bring her pain and heartache. There was so much standing in-between them that even hoping for one date would be to much. He hated witches for one, not to mention the age difference, and his past relationship with her roommate. Amon was just out of her reach, yet she couldn't help wanting him despite the fact.

Was it really even Amon she wanted? Robin wished so much to feel like she was loved. God and her adoptive Grandfather were the only people that had ever loved her. Maybe she wanted Amon to fill that void in her heart. Yeah right, who was she kidding? Amon didn't have the capacity to love her even if he tried. Love was just another thing to hope for, another thing like normalcy that she had never had. Maybe she just didn't deserve to be loved.

By the time Robin had finished her train of thought they had arrived back at the STNJ. She had one stop to make, she was heading immediately to Karasuma to ask for some treatment for her bruises. They hadn't shown up yet, but she didn't want to create a stir when the purple marks became visible on her arms, and hip, and back. If only she weren't wearing Doujima's outfit. Her normal dress would have covered the bruises easily.

As the young witch hunter followed a brooding Amon into the office and everyone glanced at them once before returning to their work, she wondered why no one seemed to ever talk much around here. Especially compared to in Italy where the chatter was almost constant. She knew she was an exception, she had reasons for her silence. Yet as she thought about it she realized that besides Sakkaki there probably wasn't one person in her work place without dark secrets or a sad past, it was really depressing when you thought about it.

"Robin, did you want something?" Miho asked, snapping Robin out of her musings yet again. Her mind had developed a habit of wandering today it seemed. With a blush and a small smile the younger woman said that she had tripped and fallen down the stairs that morning and needed help treating her bruises.

Miss Karasuma was a very kind and polite woman despite her other numerous faults and immediately complied, leading Robin into the break room and sitting her down on the couch as she shuffled through the cabinets for some rubbing alcohol and witch hazel. Before you ask, witch hazel has nothing to do with actual witches, it's just a liquid solution of herbs used to treat bruises from the outside that can be found at any supermarket.

"Robin, take these to the bathroom. Rub the alcohol on any cuts to clean them and apply the witch hazel to your bruises, okay? Then give them back to me so I can put them away. I'll be at my desk."

The teen-witch turned to do as she was told, but couldn't help making a small request as she did so. "Please don't tell anyone I fell down the stairs." A reassuring smile was her only response, but she knew that Miho wouldn't tell. The older woman just wasn't a gossip.

Robin chided herself for worrying so much about such a petty problem, but she couldn't help it really. The mere thought of everything that had happened that morning turned her cheeks red in embarrassment.

As Robin started to treat her numerous bruises a deep sense of depression came over her. The poor state of her battered body only served to remind her of the poor state of her battered heart and soul. There was so much pain; physical, mental, and emotional. There was so many scrapes, so many bruises, so many wounds. Why? Why did she have to keep on going? Who hated her enough to curse her with this existence? She knew that she had been happy and that she was being melodramatic, but she was just so tired. She was tired of pretending to be strong, tired of fighting this never ending struggle, tired of hoping, tired of wanting, tired of wishing, and tired of the pain. When would it end.

After cleaning up she left the bathroom and headed out to give the medications back with her shoulders slumped and her head low. When she reached Miho's desk the brown haired hunter looked up at her and immediately began to ask questions.

"Are you crying Robin? What's the matter? Is something wrong?"

Robin began to mumble a string of excuses or apologies, but was cut off as soon as she opened her mouth by Amon's frosty voice. "Whatever it is she can suck it up and stop being a crybaby. We don't have time for your tantrums, Robin, we have a witch to hunt."

The words hit Robin like a blow. Weak? He was calling her weak again? Would her efforts never be enough? Unable to take his scorn a moment longer she turned and fled as fast as she could manage in the tight jeans. She fled out the door and down the hall, until she spotted a door. She flung it open and ran up the stairs behind it, tears streaming down her cheeks all the while. By the time she had reached the top her vision was beginning to be so blurred by tears that it was difficult to see where she was going. Opening another door she found herself on the top of the roof.

The wind whipped through her quickly and was cold, though the sun shone upon her. And all she could see in every direction was an endless blue sky. At a slower pace now, the stressed out teenager walked over to the guard railing at the edge of the roof, and sat down with her back to it. After she was settled she proceeded to curl up in a ball, with her arms around her legs and her head resting on her knees and cry for all she was worth.

Her chest was aching right around where her heart should be. An unbearable pressure was building there and she felt as if she could explode. She wanted to scream and hit her fists against the pavement at the unfairness of it all.

She didn't want to face anyone and never wanted any of her coworkers to se her in this pitiful state, yet at the same time she hoped they would find her. Wouldn't it be sad and ironic if no one was even looking for her. What if none of them cared? Or what if they passed her off for having the childish tantrum Amon had accused her of starting?

Right as her tears started to become less frequent and her shoulder-wracking sobs had softened to the occasional hiccup she heard the door to the roof open and close loudly with the squeaking of hinges followed by a large slam. Robin didn't look up to see who it was. She doubted that she could face them.

"Robin! There you are!" came Micheal's voice as he rushed toward her across the expanse of cement that separated them. After hearing a few shuffling noises Robin looked up to see that Micheal had settled next to her in a kneeling position, looking at her through worried eyes.

Her heart leapt slightly at his presence. Here was someone who could understand her. Here she may find some rare sympathy or compassion.

"Are you alright?" he inquired softly scooting closer and resting his hands on her shoulders so that they were looking at each other eye-to-eye.

Her response was to give him a small smile and ask a question of her own. "Do you think that I am weak, Micheal? Do you think that it is wrong of me to cry? You understand, don't you?"

He stared down at her for a few moments, his eyes searching her face before leaning back on his heels to answer. " Truthfully Robin, seeing you like this is a little scary. You are always so together, always the calm center of the storm, and I can't help but wonder and worry, that if there is something out there strong enough to make you cry, then what hope do the rest of us have for facing the world. I mean, if even you can't always make it through, then how in the world will the people that have broken down in the face of much less be able to handle the problems you now face?"

Robin's eyes turned hard at his answer and though she still gave him a smile, it wasn't as warm as it had been a moment before. Steeling herself she dried her tears and stood up. Then gathered her dignity and began to walk back towards the stairway as sedately as ever.

She was quiet and stony for the remainder of the day. Ignoring her coworkers all together. As soon as it was possible she gathered up her Victorian dress in a bag and took her Vespa home.

Laying in her bed that night, Robin couldn't sleep. She stared at the ceiling long into the night thinking. She thought about how once again it had been proven that she could never show weakness. There was no excuse, and there were no people that she could be weak in front of. No one would ever understand, and no one would ever accept that she was just a normal teenager who felt sadness too. No, she would suffer alone. Always alone, and though she may be dieing on the inside, she could never let anyone else know.

**AN: **_Well what do you think? I made sure to get this chapter out in a hurry because of the delay on the last one. However I was really discouraged at the lack of reviews for the last chapter. Please do review this one. The more you review, the faster I update. Remember I don't have much self-confidence and if no one tells me otherwise I start to worry that my story sucks and there's no use in continuing it._

_So, can you guess what happens next? A special treat for anyone who can!_

_What about the pairing? Here in the beginning chapters there isn't much romance at all, but as time goes on I plan for there to be. Should it be AmonxRobin? MichealxRobin?_

_And should I stop this story once my general idea gets across or should I make it into an epic fic? _

_I would write review responses, and I will eventually, but for now I bet you'd rather I just keep working on the story, no?_

_**(standard disclaimers apply) All my love- evilteddybear**_


	4. Anger

_**My Plea/ evilteddybear/ a WHR fanfic/ Ch.4…**_

Robin glared at her shoes as she put them on the next morning, absorbed in thought as she was. Last night her heart had felt empty and dead because of her sorrow. She had felt that her soul was dead, but if that was the case; this morning anger had risen to take its place. This surprised her, for she wasn't one to anger easily, but when she was angry, the result was catastrophic.

Her troubled and vengeful thoughts rested on her comrades. Did none of them really care about her? If so did they simply only see what they wanted to see as opposed to the broken person she really was? Or were they cowardly enough to shrink back in the face of such suffering? Whatever the case they were weaker than she.

In her anger she was convinced that they were only nice and only friends when it was convenient for them. At any true test they would drop her like a sack of potatoes. This had been proven by yesterday's events. Her substitute family had proven dysfunctional. They were not strong enough to support her when she was in distress.

She was angry, yes, but though her opinions were affected by her emotions, her mind was as astute as ever. As her train of thought went on along she came to a few conclusions, the first of which was that she had erred in placing her trust in these people. Not only could she never be normal, free, or show weakness, she also could never trust. Another wall needed to be erected around what was left of her heart even though, in a figurative sense, each mental barrier blocked out the worlds warmth and turned her into a colder, harder person.

The second conclusion was that if they had turned from her when she had showed weakness, then they could as easily turn from her if and when she showed signs of becoming a witch. She could not count on them to protect her from false allegations, or to remain by her side. They would condemn her at the first foul move, at the first opportunity. She must be extra careful.

By the time she had worked all of this out in her mind she had arrived at the STNJ and was headed toward the elevator. Today she wore her usual black pilgrim's attire and her unusual pigtails. After all, she felt no need to change herself for these people.

As the elevator began to rise, Robin fiercely smothered her anger, outrage, and bitterness. She shoved them to the back of her consciousness, so that while they still existed, her emotions would not affect her actions or be detected. At least she hoped her anger wouldn't be detected. Hate was another one of those things that could make others suspect that she was becoming a witch. Therefore she could show no emotions either.

She was the first one to work that day and she greeted Michael coolly. She was cold, emotionless, heartless, fearless, strong, and alone. The only way a craft-user could afford to be if they wanted to survive. She was perfect, and she was miserable.

Robin breathed in and out deeply, slightly closing her eyes as she started to make that day's coffee. It wasn't really a bad day. The early morning sun poured in from the windows, turning the sky a light gray. Nothing was different. Bad things had happened to her before and they were likely to happen again. She just needed to cool down, and not yell at anyone.

Once she had regained her composure, Robin turned around with her cup of coffee and leaned against the nearby wall, covertly examining her co-workers one by one as they came in;

Michael was already there so she took his measure first. She believed that he had a good character, and he seemed to be affectionate towards her. She could probably count him as a friend. He showed a rare resiliency of spirit by surviving his imprisonment, but he was out of touch with reality. As was the wont of most computer geeks, he lacked practical life skills, choosing instead to pursue things in virtual reality that would have otherwise been beyond his reach. He was a loyal friend, and would probably do what he could to help her, but he lacked a fighting spirit. He was a follower, not a leader, and he would not question authority. If worse came to worse, he would not stand up to whoever was in charge of the situation. His affection for her could be used to her advantage, or could prove to be a weakness. He might help her if she asked, but if he believed that whatever course of action was taken would be better for her in the end, he could ignore her real wants and needs entirely. He was far too easily manipulated.

Next in was Sakkaki, looking half asleep and yawning as he sat down at his desk. He didn't notice her where she stood. She had made sure she was standing in the shadows, her posture demure and her expression neutral, making no other movement besides lifting the coffee cup to or from her lips and sipping delicately. It was a useful skill to know how to blend into your surroundings. Sakkaki acted young and irresponsible, but Robin doubted that that was all there was to the man. He was intelligent and had some skill; otherwise he wouldn't have been hired in the first place. No, it was more likely that his childish and carefree demeanor was a defense mechanism developed over the years to shield him from the real world. He could ignore responsibility and serious situations by acting younger than he really was, deluding himself into believing what he wanted to believe. His best quality was that he threw everything he was into doing his best, but that could hardly be of use to her now. If anything unfortunate happened to her, he would probably react rashly out of fear, or he would just pretend nothing had happened in order to avoid the effect it would have on his psyche.

After him came Karasuma. She was strong, composed, even compassionate, but she was a strict rule follower. She always went by the book. Her sense of duty and loyalty to her work and beliefs would prevent her from being of much help to Robin if the STN turned against her. She would mourn the loss, but she would make no move to help Robin against her superiors.

Amon followed soon after. Robin had never been able to read Amon. He followed his own set of rules, but she was hardly sure of what these rules were. He was powerful, and an apt leader. If he deigned to help her, then he would be an asset as an ally, but if he lead the others against her it would be far more difficult to avoid being captured. Much of what might happen in the future depended on his opinion of her. Sadly, she perceived his opinion of her to be very low. At best she was an annoying naïve new hunter that required far too much time and effort to teach, at worst she was a threat to be watched closely less she turn into a witch. Yes, she would have to start observing Amon even more closely than she had been previously, though she had hardly been lax in her observation of him before.

Last, as usual, Doujima decided to make an appearance. By this time most of the other hunters had begun to work, and she was on her second cup of coffee. Doujima appeared to be an airhead who had no commitment to the STN-J and who had gotten her job because of her connections with relatives in the administration. Then again she sometimes showed signs that negated that persona. It may be just a façade to hide her real intentions. If that was the case Robin had no idea what to expect from Doujima, but she was fairly sure that Doujima's air-headed behavior would continue for as long as the blonde found it useful. If Robin was accused of witchcraft she may or may not show her true colors. Either way she couldn't count on Doujima. She would have to just hope for the best, Doujima's support, and prepare for the worst, Doujima as an enemy.

By the time she had finished her assessments the morning routine was almost finished. Sakkaki had bothered everyone besides Amon at least once and was settling down at his work station to complain. Doujima had been yelled at by the boss for being late and useless and had sat down to read her magazine as she pretended to work. Micheal was typing away and bobbing his head to whatever music his headphones were blaring. Karasuma had begun to work on a massive stack of paperwork, and Amon…where was Amon?

Robin set down her empty coffee cup and turned to head to her seat when who should she come face-to-face with but Amon? He was leaning against the wall in a manner akin to her previous position and had been observing her from the corner of his eye. Then he turned he turned to face her fully, coming up from his leaning position to tower over her at his full height with his face covered in shadow. The effect was quite intimidating and Robin had to force herself not to take a reflexive step back.

They stood there in facing each other and staring, each trying to figure out the other, for some time. Suddenly Amon decided to speak up, saying "If you are done with your observations I suggest you sit down and get to work," before sweeping off with a swish of his black coat.

Robin took in a deep breath and made sure to assume her usual demure posture before heading to her desk to attempt to finish the day in a normal fashion.

Soon enough Micheal informed them that the witch who caused the recent deaths had been sighted. Robin stood up quickly and grabbed her coat before following Amon to his car. Before they got in Amon turned to her and said sternly, "Do not allow whatever it is that has been causing your weird behavior recently to interfere with this mission. Weakness cannot be tolerated."

At his statement a familiar rage began to boil in Robin's blood. Again, and again, and again he provoked her. His every action caused her ire to grow, pushing as it tried to overpower her control. He purposefully provoked her, but he would not win. She would prove her control was perfect. Just another characteristic she had to hone to perfection in order to survive.

Robin was distracted enough by her thoughts and her emotions that she didn't have the presence of mind to actually retaliate to Amon's verbal assault. The next thing she knew the car had been parked behind a stretch of trees. The other hunter's vehicles soon pulled up, not too far from their location. They were positioned in a field that had a road that was barely used enough to warrant the city paving it. There was an airport not to far away that caused the air to be constantly filled with the distant sounds of airplanes taking off and landing.

There was evidence that the witch used this road daily, and always near the same time. Apparently it was the road he used to get home.

As they were getting ready Amon approached her one more time. He stared at her directly with one of his trademark penetrating gazes before making one last comment. "We can't afford any more mistakes. You haven't proved to be a competent member of this team, so I only have one thing to say to you. Don't screw this up."

As the last word left his mouth Robin's demure façade cracked and then fell to pieces. One hand came up to clasp the amulet that hung on a string around her neck. It provided her strength and might help her to not completely lose herself in rage, but that was hardly enough to keep her anger from spilling out.

Robin's face was calm, set in stone, and her eyes flashed with fire akin to when she was using her craft as she said, "Don't patronize me Amon. I'm completely competent and have done everything expected of me. You're constant need to belittle me is obviously just a way to project your fears onto someone else. You're not afraid of me screwing this up, you aren't preparing for my mistakes, and you aren't angered by my weakness. You are deluding yourself Amon. YOU are weak. The insecurities you have and the thought of you failing completely throws you off balance. The only way you can keep yourself straight is to pin your problems on someone else. You haven't been hostile, cold, and rude to me since I got here because I'm a burden to you or because you would rather work alone. You just react to me that way because you are afraid. You think that if you keep me intimidate me enough I will have enough self doubt that I won't take any action against you. You are afraid of the incompetent little immature craft user that you treat like dirt. You're afraid of my power, you're afraid of my strength, and you're afraid of what SOLOMON might have sent me here to do. You're strong icy persona is just that, a façade, an alternate persona, a fake mask. You don't fool me though you may have succeeded in fooling yourself. I've called you're bluff. Now what are you going to do? You aren't going to do anything are you? You don't have the power. So my advice would be to suck it up and step back. I am your equal and you will start treating me as such. You no longer hold any power over me; I won't tolerate YOUR juvenile behavior anymore."

Little by little as she continued to talk Robin read Amon's emotion's through his eyes. His condescending attitude and confidence slowly faded until his eyes were filled with only one emotion; self-doubt.

Robin felt quite a bit better after her tirade, though she knew she shouldn't have said anything. Some of her emotions had leaked out as she talked about them and she no longer felt like she was going to explode. As she took a few seconds to calm herself and regulate her breathing she felt an overwhelming sense of freedom. She hadn't even realized how much Amon's constant condescension had weighed down her spirit. It felt

wonderful to be out of his shadow.

**AN:** _Hey, did you miss me? I'm SO sorry about how long this took to get out. I'm also a bit disappointed in my own writing style, I hope you like it at least. I'm so happy about all of the reviews you gave me. It makes me feel like I'm not just writing a stupid thing that's really just a way to neglect my responsibilities and talk to myself. I also need to make a few apologies, I'm sorry for offending a few people with my comment about no updates without reviews, for my writing blunders, for my lack of action and dialogue, for not making individual replies to my reviews, and for going against the rules by asking questions about pairings. _

**I LUV U GUYS SO MUCH!  **

_I would also like to say; hey, who out there would like to help me? I'm sure I've said a few things like this before, but it's still true so I'm still going to say it. Writing this story for me is like feeling around in the dark. Unlike most stories I didn't write a plot line then fill in with the character's emotions and dialogue. I'm writing this with emotions as the base and that sure does make writing the plot harder. _**If there is anyone out there who enjoys helping authors instead of going to all the trouble of writing, or anyone with ideas, or who is sympathetic to my plight, or who would like to co-author or beta or something please e-mail me! **_I would really like some help guiding myself around in the dark. The romance department is the one I'm having the worst problems with right now. _**Help!**

**_(standard disclaimers apply) All my love- evilteddybear_**


	5. Terror

**_My Plea/ evilteddybear/ a WHR fanfic/ Ch.5…_**

**AN:**_ This is a special chapter. It has parts in the point of view of all of the characters of the WHR crew. I hope you like!_

_&&&&&Robin'sPOV&&&&&_

Robin was panting in anticipation as they waited for the witch to pass by. Her nerves were already on high alert from her confrontation with Amon. Now they were back in position, waiting to ambush the witch on his way home. Since this witch's powers were unknown two teams had been sent on this mission; she, Amon, Sakkaki, and Miho were the ones chosen for the fight.

After what seemed an eternity of waiting they saw a silver SUV coming down the road. Quickly, Amon grabbed his sniper rifle with real bullets and filled the tires full of lead until the driver lost control. The SUV swerved and there was no question that it was going to crash. Just before it ran off the road however, the witch jumped out of the car.

Still suffering from the shock of the car crash, the witch was disoriented and off-balance. Before he knew what was happening, he was surrounded. Unlike what happens in TV shows there was no preliminary babble. The fight commenced immediately. Miho only managed to get of a badly aimed shot before the power of the witch hit them all full-force.

_&&&&&Miho'sPOV&&&&_

She was at a subway station and found that she could barely stand. All of the sudden the emotions and thoughts of the people around her began to pour into her head. She was happy, tired, grieving, grumpy, excited, agitated, angry, hateful, vengeful, concerned, hopeful, and any number of other emotions at the same time.

The young woman tried to sort these things out in her head using logic and facts. It had always worked before after all. She knew what emotions she SHOULD be feeling, therefore the rest must be from other people and she should block them out. That was easier said than done. Slowly but surely her rational thoughts faded, being swept under the tide of immense feeling. She couldn't think anymore, only feel.

Different voices or subjects, different personalities if you will began to creep inside of her head. She struggled against it, tried to hold onto her sense of self. The emotions continued to take over despite her best efforts and suddenly she didn't know what she was struggling for or against. The small part of her that was left struggled maintain a grip on any type of sanity. However it too, was only strong enough to delay the inevitable. As the last piece of her consciousness drifted away, it took on the form of one emotion; terror.

_&&&&Sakkaki'sPOV&&&&_

The witch they had gone off to hunt that night was staring at him with a smirk. The prone forms of his comrades were lying around the parking lot where the earth craft had left them. The witch was speaking, "It's your fault you know, you should have known better.", and suddenly Sakkaki knew that he was right. This entire situation was his fault. He was so weak that he brought down not only himself but his colleagues as well.

As he stood there, looking from the unconscious or dead bodies to the witch's face and back, he also knew how weak and worthless he was. So, he did the only thing he could think of, he started running as if the hounds of hell were after him, firing blindly behind him at the witch. All the time while he ran, he knew that he was abandoning his friends to an uncertain but most assuredly horrible fate.

His terror rose constantly right along with the overflowing of self-hate. He ran and ran and ran some more until he passed out from stress and fatigue.

_&&&&&Amon'sPOV&&&&&_

Everything was chaos, destruction, fear, anger, and passion, and his mother was the center of it. She caused the pain and the damage. She just stood there like the eye of a storm as he screamed her name over and over again. He called to her for help, for love, for safety from this chaos, but he couldn't reach her. She was shut off from him now, leaving him alone in this storm of destruction.

When he had given up, his mother's face turned towards him, but it was no longer his mother. In front of him stood Robin. She was as demure and gentle as ever. Maybe, just maybe, here he could find solace. As he thought this Robin said his name once with all of the emotions that she always portrayed through such a simple word. She said it once but then previos scene with his mother repeated itself.

Robin's eyes were consumed by fire and a storm of fire raged around her, she in the eye of the storm as before. He again screamed at her to stop, to take control, anything. But his voice could not reach her. She also was separated from him, and he was alone again.

When the fire died down to embers all he could see was ash, everywhere. It was an eternal loneliness in a wasteland, and he was terrified.

_&&&&TheWitch'sPOV&&&&&_

He stood smirking in the middle of their failed ambush. Watching with amusement as each went insane with terror. It was so easy to bring out peoples worst fears. What was the saying? "You have nothing to fear but fear itself,"? Too true, too true. Fear can cripple the heart, soul, body, and mind quickly and efficiently, as he had soon learned.

His craft was one he was particularly proud of. The STN-J had been severely culling the witch population as soon as they began using the green substance known as Orbo. It rendered most witches helpless as they couldn't use their craft on the wearer, but his craft was different. It was no outside force or attack. No all he did was simply bring out the fear that had been festering for far too long in each person's body.

The scene was actually quite entertaining. The boy with the slightly short brown hair waited for a second before running off to who knows where in terror, while firing shots of Orbo behind him as if to ward off an attack.

The tall brunette woman had started shaking first, then randomly grabbing her own head, shoulders, arms, anything as though trying to literally "get a grip" on herself before she abruptly fainted.

The tall Dark hunter had somehow started to somewhat resemble a frightened child. He sat there, he just sat there, and then he started crying. What a funny sight to see such a strong man turn juvenile and weak!

Last but not least there was the little hunter in the nun's dress with the funny hairstyle. At first she had just stood there, hands clenching and unclenching uselessly, eyes wide with terror, confusion, and betrayal. Her breaths were coming in shaking gulps. That wasn't particularly interesting on its own, but it got better.

When the young male hunter had run off shooting he hit her in the arm! Can you imagine such a thing? Hunter turning on hunter, what a sight! She was such a nice victim too, her terror rapidly intensified, and as the bullet hit she let out a mournful, pitiful scream, followed by regular whimpers of pain, while still in the trance.

So much for the undefeatable STN-J. This had been almost easy, not to mention terribly entertaining.

_&&&&&Doujima'sPOV&&&&&_

Back at the office, Doujima and Micheal were monitoring the hunt carefully through the headsets the hunters wore. They had managed to hear the major part of the argument between Amon and Robin, and were still sitting and giggling about it or analyzing it. They hadn't heard much else, but it didn't worry them. The witch probably just hadn't shown up yet. That was until they heard the gunshots go off in the background.

After the shots were fired it became silent again, and as per usual Micheal asked Amon whether or not he should call in the Factory. Amon didn't answer. Believing it was just a glitch, he tried to contact Ms. Karasuma. He didn't get an answer from her either. After a few more attempts and at least one to each intercom system he began to nearly panic.

Micheal made a move to turn around in his chair and appraise Doujima of the situation. To his surprise, he found her taking off her headsets and preparing to leave. "Doujima?" he asked incredulously. "I'm going to find out what's going on down there," was all she replied before she got onto the elevator and prepared to face whatever enemy she may encounter.

The ride to the location of the planned ambush seemed to take forever for Doujima. There were too many things to consider: the safety of her friends and colleagues, the capture of the witch, the reaction of her superiors. Finally she decided two things, first, she would be more subtle in her plan of attack than her colleagues, and second, if she didn't calm down she'd be no use to anyone. So the rest of the ride was a series of controlled breathing exercises to relieve tension and stress.

Finally, not too far up ahead Doujima spotted wrecked silver SUV that matched the description of the one the witch owned. Seeing this she got a little closer and then parked her car in the most secluded place she could find before heading toward the wreck.

As she got closer she could see what looked to be four or five dark forms. Keeping herself out of their line of vision she crept closer, using her skills as a spy to do so. There in the middle of the road not far from the wreck stood three STN-J members surrounding the witch, as planned. What wasn't according to plan was Sakkaki missing, Karasuma passed out, Amon crying, Robin whimpering in pain after having been shot with orbo, and the smug look on the face of the witch in the center watching it all.

Again using her best bit of stealth Doujima snuck around the back of the witch. He was facing Robin at the time, so she would have to go to the opposite end of the circle. Once she was in position, certain that he had not detected her, she shot three orbo bullets, being as careful as she possibly could be with her aim as to avoid hitting Robin. If one of the bullets managed to get past him or if he dodged there was a chance that the orbo would hit Robin instead.

Her aim was true; however, and as the witch slowly slumped to the ground her partners began to slowly regain their senses. As they came back into consciousness their fear seemed to wane and they began to analyze the situation. At least that's what Doujima thought until she looked back from her fallen comrades to see Robin, eyes wide with even more terror than she had displayed in her trance as she stared down the barrel of Doujima's gun, still pointed directly at her now that the barrier of the witch's body did not stand between them.

**_AN_**: _Hey peoples! I hope I updated soon enough. Well, I hope you all wish me a happy B-day. I just turned 15! _** **_And a very happy un-birthday to you all as well. Hope you had a happy 4th of July. I love fireworks! _**(Maniacal laugh)**

_I had someone ask me to put the paragraphs further apart so it was easier to read. I hope this helps. Did you like my multiple POV chapter? Should I try to do it again? This was the first time I've tried something like that. _

_What do you want to happen next? I have a general idea of how it's going to go….but then again none of my plans could be called "complete". _

_Thank you reviewers! _**YOU ROCK!**(As always)_ You are my inspiration. I was inspired by you to write this chapter sooner. _** **

_Thank you very much to all of the reviewers that volunteered to help me when I was a big mess of confusion. I hope that this worked out my plot holes well enough. --: (sweat drops) I also hope they weren't too obvious. _

_To those of you who have this story on their favorites list or on their author/story list look out for my review. I decided that a nice way to thank those people would be to read and review their story's the best that I can. I haven't gotten to all of them yet, but I am trying…maybe I'll eventually get along to reading ALL my reviewer's stories…but then again. _

_(If you happen to be a fan of Inuyasha too, would you mind reading my Inuyasha story and maybe giving me some help? I have absolutely no iota of an idea of what I'm doing with this story. _**(Sweat drops…again) **_ I don't mean to be demanding, sorry.)_

_Well….I really don't have all that much else to say, except I'm really nervous about how I did with the other character's POV's. I don't relate to them as much…_

**_All my love- evilteddybear_**

**_(Standard disclaimers apply)_**


	6. Religion

What was happening? What had gone wrong? Robin's wits were suddenly scattered as she tried to make sense of what was happening. She had thought she was on a witch hunt, but now…. She was backed into an alleyway by her comrades. They all had on steely, if somewhat concerned or betrayed expressions. Robin darted her head in several directions in an attempt to find an escape route. Whatever was happening, she knew it wasn't good.

Robin continued to back up slowly as her co-workers advanced. Soon her back would run into a brick wall and she would be completely cornered. Suddenly it dawned on her; she was being hunted. They were hunting her. Fear and betrayal made her chest constrict harshly and her breathing became shallow.

What had she done to prove she was a witch? What had she done to earn their ire? They were all hunting her. Did none of them feel any guilt or hesitation? She was wrong to develop feelings for them. She had been so wrong. Once again she hadn't been cold enough. Once again she was betrayed.

Suddenly Amon dropped down from a building above, his trench coat flapping dramatically as per usual. He landed a mere ten feet in front of her. She saw him reach into his pocket and pull out his orbo gun, aiming it directly at her.

What could she do? There was no where to run. She couldn't fight them with her craft even if she could summon the courage to do so. They had the orbo. Hysteria and terror began to close in as she realized she was about to be captured or killed. She had been declared a Witch, an abomination and enemy of God.

So all she could do was watch, frozen like prey that looks into the eyes of a snake, as he aimed his gun at her. "All Witches must be hunted," he said sedately as he pulled the trigger.

Suddenly she felt a blinding pain in her shoulder and looked down to see a gaping wound. The blood was interspersed with orbo. The pain was mind-numbing. As the orbo started to circulate through her body she could feel the power of her craft draining out of her.

It took a few more moments to soak in before she realized the full horror of her situation. Her partner, the person who she owed all loyalty to, the man who was her other half, had just shot her. He believed her to be a witch and was taking her in to the Factory. Her brain shut down after this realization as the hysteria of pain, terror, betrayal, and confusion took over.

Suddenly the world around her shifted again and her original confusion returned full force. She could still feel the pain of the orbo induced wound in her shoulder, but it seemed she was back near the road of her most recent witch hunt. She was about to analyze her surroundings further, but one detail grabbed her attention immediately.

Once again the battle to keep her mind working and her emotions under control was lost as she saw Doujima not far from her with an orbo gun pointed directly toward her head. As terror took over she did what her body instinctually ordered her to do. She turned tail and ran. Anything that was called after her was left unheard. Her emotions were buzzing around in her head so loudly that any other sounds were completely drowned out.

Robin had no idea how long she ran or where she went. She just kept running. This day had turned out so wrong. They were hunting her. Why? She would never be able to find peace. Maybe she could do something like go live in The Walled City. Still, life would never be the same.

Adrenaline raced through her veins along with the previously recognized pain and fear. All she was aware of was; her harsh breathing, her feet pounding on the ground, the sound of her blood pumping through her veins at a rapid pace, the feel of the wind stinging her eyes and whipping back her hair as she ran, the pain, and the fear.

After a while she began to slow down and think again. Not because she was regaining her composure, but because she was becoming tired. Looking back quickly she saw that no one was following her. The young Craft User found that she had run into an old residential district. Ahead she saw what looked to be an empty Church. It was odd considering Churches were less frequently found in Japan.

Not second-guessing her luck Robin flew to the Church and tried to open the door. Finding it locked she tried to melt the lock. Too late she remembered the orbo in her shoulder as searing pain ran through her body as she tried to use her Craft. When the pain had subsided she opened her eyes and realized that she had fallen to her knees in her earlier agony. Getting up she proceeded to find a back door, open it, and drag herself inside, down the hallway, and into the sanctuary where she promptly collapsed onto a pew. No sooner had she lowered herself into a lying position than she had lost consciousness due to blood loss from the wound in her shoulder.

* * *

When Robin regained consciousness she was still weak and bleeding slightly, but her mind was functioning better than it had been. As she took in her surroundings waves of emotions centering on confusion swamped her. Of all places how did she end up taking refuge in a Church?

The young woman didn't know what to do. A part of her was empty and demanded that she take this opportunity to pray, to ask for forgiveness for whatever action she had taken to warrant this punishment. Another part of her told herself that she was filth. If she was truly a witch she had no right to be here or anywhere in Gods presence. Yet another part of her felt betrayed. Maybe it was her inner child but a part of her felt so lost, lonely, and confused. She wanted God's guidance, but so far he had not helped her one bit. If she had been so pious before and it did her no good what good would it do now.

There was no way she could stop believing in God, but she was beginning to doubt that God loved her. She could no longer find her inner faith in something entirely good. She couldn't justify trusting her heart fully to anyone or anything at the moment- including God. She was probably being selfish and lacking in faith, but there was little else she could do. There had always been only a slim chance of Robin escaping hell being who she was, whatever chance she had was probably halved now that she was officially a witch.

With all of her conflicting emotions, memories, and knowledge of the lord Robin couldn't make sense of anything she could or should do, let alone what she should think. Only a few things were clear; she was facing a time of suffering that may or may not be Gods will, she was betrayed and afraid, and she was desperate for unconditional love. Many things she was taught about Christianity were confusing and contradictory, but at the base of it all was the belief that God loves us the way we are.

So with what strength she had Robin dragged herself forward to kneel down and pray. She had no specific requests or thoughts in mind. She just focused on trying to get God to acknowledge and understand her feelings. Robin focused on portraying or projecting her confusion, betrayal, hurt, and desperation. It was basically an emotional plea for help to a being she didn't know if she believed was there, and if he was there, she had no idea as to whether he cared about her suffering. He may have been pleased by it. None-the-less she continued to send out her emotional S.O.S. in hopes that The Lord would respond.

All of her training and years in the monastery didn't help her as she tried to sort out her beliefs or what the correct decisions were in this situation, if anything they just confused her more. As her brain was not functioning she projected her emotions relying on the base faith that had been ingrained so deep in her it couldn't be completely taken away, and the actions she had learned by rote.

As Robin kneeled there reaching with all of her heart in hopes of finding the consoling presence of God she let a prayer which had come to her lips without prompting be mumbled aloud. Maybe the Lord would hear the prayer said daily by many of his followers. The Lord's Prayer. "Lord our God the Blessed One, hallowed be Thy name, Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven, give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us, for Thine is the kingdom, and the glory, and the power, now and forever, Amen."

Her prayer echoed throughout a room familiar with the words she spoke as they had been spoken for years every Sunday during service. It was comforting and routine. What was not normal was the fact that the young woman fell, unconscious once again, as soon as the last word of the prayer passed her lips.

* * *

Febuary 29

Again I am writing because I find my faith in God in question. The more I struggle with my belief, the harder it is to believe. Maybe that is the curse of all people who governed by rational thought instead of action or emotion. Am I doomed to forever be unable to accept my religion? I will not abandon it, but I can not follow it either. I have been betrayed numerous times, and have never had anyone else to depend on. Because of this, I am unable to rely on anything but my own logic and wit. I am the only person who I know will not betray me, I am the only person I know I can depend on . Though I am often forced to depend on others by circumstance, I have not done so by choice for a long time.

In my journal I once rationalized that I could never put my faith in a God that was cruel, which is why I could easily rule out several pagan traditions. Now I find myself asking questions about God as I know Him; "Does God really love me unconditionally?" This I think is the core of my current problem.

In the text I am currently reading, I find several assurances that through suffering comes redemption, and that from death comes life; however, in my own experience I find the exact opposite to be true, with life comes death. Everyone who lives will die, and in every life there is suffering. No matter how rich or famous or smart you are, no one is immune to suffering. "Is this the price we pay for being born?" As far as I can see, there is no true redemption. No matter what obstacles you may overcome, there will be more to face. The cycle of pain is, from my perspective, never-ending.

People have also tried to reassure me that my suffering will be rewarded, this is not an unconditional love, but under the condition that the more you suffer, the more God loves you.

Another point that has been raised to prove that our suffering is not in vain is that it is all for the future glory of God. The question then is of course, "Am I willing to suffer for God?" I don't understand God, and I cannot find it in me despite my efforts to trust him. I don't know God, or even what God is. Why then would I want to suffer for him?

Still I am given the argument that we, as humans, just can't see God's plan. That we should take comfort in knowing that He is in charge and that all will be well in the end. A question I have alluded to before; "Is there ever really and end to our suffering?" pertains to this.

All of the above questions culminate and commingle in my mind. As I search for understanding, yet another question needs to be raised. It may not even really be a question, but instead more of a plea. "Is there anything worth this much suffering?" I, in a way, have been searching fervently for a reason, or a cause, or anything that would prove that the suffering of the human race is justified. I have not found anything yet that is worth the suffering the human race endures. There is nothing in life, that is worth the suffering that comes with life. There is nothing worth enduring child abuse, or constant pain. I can not speak for anyone else, but I would gladly traded the experience of my life for having never existed at all.

If suffering is a punishment for sins, then God's love is conditional, for he favors the blameless. And if the blameless' faith is tested with a trial of suffering, God's love is conditional, for it is better for those who sin. If any of our actions cause God to make us suffer, then His love is conditional, because joy and suffering depend on how we, as humans, act.

Some say that suffering is caused because it is a result of God allowing humans freewill. While others insist that it is all a part of God's plan. Which is true? Both cannot be the case, because if our destiny is planned for us then we really have no choice at all. Yet if we have free will, our actions or the suffering we cause.

The only possible redemption I can see is that we will find peace in heaven. Yet with no proof or evidence of the place, I find it hard to believe it exists. It is impossible for me to base my entire belief system on something that cannot be proven as fact.

I feel as if I am searching blindly for truth, I am searching blindly for faith, or anything good, and the longer I do, the less I find. It is as if all I can see is a shadow, as insubstantial as mist, and the true form that casts the shadow is hidden from me. Some faith is based on the fact that it is the good and love in all of us that constitutes God. Though this is one of the few arguments I cannot refute, I cannot believe it either, because such good is beyond my comprehension. I am bitter and cynical, and find no reality but pain. Suffering is something I find evidence of and have experience in in full measure, maybe the only thing that I don't have cause to question. Maybe this is not the case for whoever may be reading this. If you find yourself capable of faith, please pray for me.

March 15

I used to believe wholly in the strength of the Lord. It's so easy to believe the messages that the Bible preaches. The main one that always gets people hooked is "Jesus loves you." The majority of the people in the world are lonely, lost, and afraid, even if they pretend that they don't need any love. They all jump at the chance to believe someone loves them.

It's a lot harder to believe that God loves you when you know more about the world. When you know that the majority of it's inhabitants will live miserably for the majority of their lives. When you know about all of the pain, struggles, hate, anger, fear, terror, suicide, violence, insanity, perverseness, pride, selfishness, and strife. When you know about these things, it's a lot harder to believe the often used quote, "For God so loved the world that he gave his only son." What kind of love is it that allows such suffering?

One common excuse is that it is all the fault of the sins of man. That in order to make everything right, God would have to take away humankind's freewill; however, I find this to be a rather weak argument. According to the Bible, God has plans for our future, as you could say, He determines our fate. If that is true then we really don't have that much freewill at all, do we? Are we allowed to decide whether our parents are drug addicts or if we grow up without love? Are we allowed to decide if we are born with a defect, or if we get cancer? Do we decide if we are murdered or not? The freewill we have is only enough to allow us to instigate evil, but not enough to protect us from it. We can decide to murder, do drugs, and deprive others of love. Still, as I said before, we don't have enough power to protect us from these evils. What kind of freewill is that? Is it really worth all the pain it causes to have this "power to make our own decisions?"

Another popular excuse for the wickedness of the world is that we are being punished for our sins. Why then are babies and children subjected to such pain? Why would I serve a god who unnecessarily causes the innocent pain? After all, God is omnipotent, and can save these children at any point in time. Sadly, that is "taboo." That would be interfering in the affairs of humans, which, as I have already stated, God does anyway. If God were to "interfere" on our behalf, that would be helping the suffering and lost human race, who only have the power to harm. That would be defending us against the impossible odds stacked against us. What kind of god would do that?

The other excuse I have been given for all of my suffering is that it is for "the glory of God." What does that mean? Why in the world would I want to make myself this miserable for the glory of a god that may not even love me? Maybe loving the world is a premise for manipulating us to do his will. After all, believers of the faith give their lives to God. How much glory does He need anyway? I may be selfish, but I have no want to suffer for the glory of God. Does he need glory to exist or something? Maybe that phrase means that it is to make the world better because God is on our side. If an omnipotent God is on our side why do we suffer so? Why does He require His children to suffer in order to make other children happy? Are some of us worth more than others, or does he just require our pain as a show of obedience before he will help us? That doesn't sound like unconditional love to me. Again, in selfishness, how does working for God benefit me? I have tried to for a large portion of my life and I have only been placed in increasingly negative situations. He requires crusification, sacrifices, and martyrdom for his glory. His "favored" people have suffered horribly throughout history. Why would I want to be one of them?

My point is that I no longer believe that God loves me. I think that's just a catch phrase that makes people feel happy and complete, but I will not delude myself. I've felt a force pushing me my entire life to be a zealous Christian, but was that the love of God or just an obligation I feel because my mother is a pastor? I was capable of believing that all of the suffering was man made, before the seeds of doubt were sown, and before I was stricken down by fibromyalgia. Now I have to deal with physical torture as well as emotional, and I can't handle it for the sake of a God I don't understand and hardly know. After all, I am only fourteen. I used to know what it felt like to be loved by God, but that feeling has faded and all I am left with is pain and bitterness. Pain is my sole component. It floods me; body, mind, and soul. How then am I to give those things to the Lord?

The only conclusion I can come to is that the Lord has forsaken me, or that he has deigned that I should unwillingly suffer for his Glory. In either case I can not devote my heart to God. I can not trust him, and therefore I cannot love him. God has forsaken me if he ever loved me in the first place. God may still exist and He might have done as the Bible says, but it lies in at least one or more aspects. If God doesn't love me, then his love isn't unconditional. Yet He doesn't love me, even if he does love the rest of the world. If the Bible isn't lying in that aspect then it must be lying about the nature of his love. If he does love me, then his love is not saving, redeeming, or the living water. He dos not weep for me or ache for my pain. He doesn't care at all. His love is a harsh punishment that leads to His follower's suffering and death. Either way, his love is a lie, and I am on my own, fated to suffer until the end of my days. How many other poor souls has He forsaken?

* * *

**AN:** _Hi peoples! It's a Me! So, if you actually took the time to read through not only the chapter itself but the two rants afterward you are probably wondering one thing- Where the hell did that come from! My friends I would tell you if I only knew. Robin is religious right? Not many people who write WHR fics explore that facet of her personality, so here is my poor attempt. _

_Yeah Yeah, I know it sucked. I also know it's hard on the eyes with the little font and bad spacing but you know what? I tried to change it but when I uploaded it to documents from my nice pretty Word program file it went back to this really small eye-sore font without double spacing. Go figure. _

_Sorry I was so late with writing this, if you want an excuse it would be my bad health and depression. If you bothered to read my Micheal one-shot then you know that I'm depressed seeing as how I based his depression off of mine. _

_As for where this story is going next. Well you see, that's the problem. I'm again at one of those points in my fics where I have no idea what to do next cries...If I were a good author I would have all of this planned out BEFORE I wrote the story right? Yeah, too bad I'm not. Maybe I'll do better next time. Again this story was based on a half-baked idea so... any advice from another 'chef' would be very much apreciated. All I have planned for the rest of this fic is that Amon is going to come save Robin's but, but he'll do it in a way that allows him to still seem like an ass-hole. So- any ideas?_


	7. Chapter 7, the end?

Robin woke sometime later to find herself lying on a pew in excruciating pain. She looked around to find what might have woken her to find Amon walking steadily down the isle toward her. The young hunter jumped up, frantic to escape. What might he do to her? Why hadn't he left her alone? Why had she been followed. She was so afraid she even started throwing fire to his side: not close enough to touch him, but close enough to be a warning.

Suddenly he was running tword her and her vision was filled with him as she fell backwards, knocked to the ground, drowning in the pain it caused her. Then there was only darkness.

I don't know how to continue this story and am looking either for a beta or for someone who would like to finish this story for me.

For my readers this story would have gone like this, each chapter would reflect a certain emotion. Robin would go back to hunting after healing, but would slowly start to exhibit symptoms close to that of the disease fibromyalgia. She has contracted Orbo poisoning from when she was shot. The story would end with her re-integration into hunting and her making up with God. It would also end in an Amon-Robin romance. I ;however, am not skilled enough to make this happen, if you are please e-mail me to talk.


End file.
